Magician's Gambit
by ThreeBlackRoses
Summary: Twenty-eight moments in the life of a time traveling wizard and his pet ninja. Oh the fun we shall have.
1. Playing

A/N: Be forewarned, this is pointless, cute, and written very late at night. The plot took hold and began to eat my brain, so, I wrote it down. Yes, sooner or later there will be twenty eight of these. Enjoy!

After facing nothing but death, destruction and general mayhem for the last few eternities, Fai had fully expected to have a great deal on his mind-for a very long time. Yet in this most recent of worlds, the mage had been pleasantly surprised to find that his greatest worry was an efficient method of getting mud out of his cloak. The thick, dark substance clung to everything it touched, dripping black muck onto the white fabric of his cloak. Syaoran and Sakura were having a fine time somewhere to his left, slipping and sliding in the unfamiliar conditions. Giving up for the time being, the mage stood back and watched them flail for a moment before stepping forward to help. He had scarcely taken three steps when a sharp cry of "Oi! Mage!" reached his ears. Fai spun a little too quickly, nearly losing _his_ footing, when something wet hit the back of his head with a wet smacking sound. He jerked forwards, lifted of his feet by the force of impact. The mages hand flew to the back of his hood- and came into contact with the same sticky mud that the two teenagers were battling not far away, struggling even harder as they fought back laughter.

So he wanted to play that game, eh? Fine, play they would. Fai rose slowly, turned slowly, blinked slowly, and then cranked his arm down at a speed that would have made any pitcher green with envy. Kurogane never saw it coming. Unfortunately, neither did Syaoran when Sakura decided that perhaps mud had a purpose in life after all. Sacrificing any hope of clean clothes, the travelers were soon hurling mud left and right.

A mud snowman was, of course, inevitable, although it was debatable who was more enveloped in the substance, the mudman of his constructors. By the end of their project sleep was a unanimous choice, tomorrow they must search for this world's feather. Yet, perhaps the only way to truly heal a soul is to lift its burden for the moments whose light can inspire it through the hate and pain that eventually come to claim all. Truly, who knows better than they who fight it day after day, the tragedies of death and the cruelties life? And who more deserves a reprieve, a glorious rest from the torture of life?

A/N: Please R&R! What would you like to see, what did you hate/love?


	2. In Danger

_**A/N: **_This is going to be a bit of a non-sequitur as it begins in the middle of what may well be a fanfic. Beware angst!

_**In Danger**_

Fai's blinked, allowing his eyes to slowly adjust to the gloom of his cell.

Rising to his knees, the mage tested the strength of the rope binding his hands behind his back. The constraining braid refused to give and Fai inhaled to steady himself, accepting that he could well be standing in his grave. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax and examine his surroundings.

Truly, there wasn't much to look at. The walls were a filthy shade of gray, offset only by the thin rays of light stabbing through the barred window set into the door. Inside of the cell there was nothing. No stone bench inset into the wall, no hanging chains, and nothing of any use. These people were taking no choices with a captive wizard. Even the ropes biting into his wrists were embodied with a magic retardant substance. Fai sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he would simply need to wait. There would be a trial, and he had to believe that they couldn't convict him of a crime of which he was innocent. He had to.

"Still alive in there mage?" The jailer brayed. He ignored the question, rationalizing that there was no right answer anyway.

"Oi!" The jailer's harsh cry called his attention. The man hadn't seemed that desperate to have him pay attent– his thoughts broke off at the sickening thud of a body slamming against his cell door.

"Where is the mage?" This voice was unfamiliar, but the tone held a universal chill of malice.

"And if I don't say?" A slap echoed throughout the jailhouse, accompanied by a cry of surprised pain from the jail keeper.

"I'm afraid that's not an option," the voice sneered. Fai cringed away, sliding to the far corner of his cell, knees to his chest.

"What do you nutjobs want with him anyway? The trial will be tomorro-"

The cold voice cut him off, tone so frigid that the jailer's words seemed to freeze before they reached his lips. "There will be no trial. I will make sure of that. The government no longer knows what is best for the people. The mage will go free - the evidence is too little to hold him - and infect others. Magic is a disease, spreading death and pain in its wake. Yet, unlike most diseases, magic cannot be cured. Therefore, it must be killed. If the council will not act, I will." Behind him an entire gang of people announced their presence by raucously cheering his speech.

So that was the point of it all. The arrest, his detainment, his pain…all so that this man could kill him. And all he could do was hope beyond hope that the jailer, this man whom he had never met, felt a sense of duty great enough to keep him safely locked up. His hopes evaporated as the cold voice barked an order and a body-presumably the jailers-hit the floor, hard.

The voice spoke again, ordering unseen men once more. "Take his keys and open all the doors. Find. That. Mage."

Gritting his teeth against the sudden flare of pain in his ribs, Fai forced himself to stand. The guards responsible for his detention had been unnecessarily rough and his body bore the resultant marks. Nevertheless, regardless of whether he lived or died, he determined to meet these people standing of his own power.

He had scarcely gained his feet when the noise outside the door exploded, announcing the arrival of what must have been a mob. The thick stone of the door had effectively cut the noise, creating the illusion of few people where many had stood. The door swung inward to admit a slender man silhouetted by the flickering torchlight behind him. Dressed from head to toe in black, his grin carried an icy cold that perfectly matched his voice.

Striding forward, the man took Fai's chin in his hand, tilting the mage's face to and fro, forcing him to look at him. Leaning inwards, he spoke in the same frozen tones he had threatened the jailer with. "Do you want to live mage? Because if you do, all I want is the girl. Would you exchange your friends for your life?

It took a moment for Fai to register that this man was actually serious. "Are you insane?" he cried, aghast. "I would never."

"Then I suppose you're braver than I am." The man sounded almost...happy, as though he had hoped all along that Fai would answer as he did. He released Fai's face and stepped gracefully to the side, dusting off his hands. "Take him."

Who would have thought that two words, simple as they were, would hold the power to change fate itself? The silence that had reigned beneath the man's words shattered as a veritable mob of people swarmed into the cell, pouncing towards the mage. Cries of "Someone find a pole, good and strong," and "I've got firewood in my workshop." flooded Fai's ears as people of every shape and size jostled into him grabbing, pulling, punching and dragging him out of the relative safety of the cell.

The hallway, too, was filled with people. Unlike their predecessors, they had torches, firewood, and, most notably, a long, wooden pole. They were going to burn him at the stake. The very thought would have sent him to his knees had the rioting crowd not been holding him upright. They pulled him along as though he were merely a rag doll, a toy to be ripped apart for their own amusement. Bile rose in his throat as they passed the door and the limp body of the guard who had denied them access to his cell. The man sprawled in an ever spreading pool of blood.

His gaze lingered on the man's pale, still face for a mere moment before the mob dragged him from the jail and out into the open air. Behind him he caught the familiar scents and sounds that accompany fire and realized that the people were burning their own jail. Truly, they were now too far gone to be reasoned with and he had no weapon, much less the strength to use one. The most he could do was wait and hope.

As the people dragged him along the streets of their city, spitting at him, hurling mud at his face he felt nothing of the shame they so obviously wished for him, only a deep, penetrating fear, for both his own life and for those of his companions, still tucked safely away. In his heart, he knew they would come and the though chilled him to the bone.

The numb sting of terror settled over his body, blocking out the sharp sting of tiny rocks thrown by cat calling children nicking his skin. A clump of soft, wet earth slammed into the back of his head, sending spots dancing across his vision and sending his thoughts back to that peaceful day not so long ago when a mage, a ninja, and two teens had barraged one another with spheres of mud. He yearned wistfully for the delicate innocence of that game, an innocence these malicious children would never learn in their homes.

Kurogane was mentally murdering himself. Over and over, as he hurtled down the street with the kids in tow, all he could think was _Should not have let him out of my sight!_

Admittedly, had he know the mage was going to go and get himself convicted for a murder; he wouldn't have let him out the door, much less his sight. Nevertheless, as he cleared the hill, only to be greeted by the flames rising from the jail, he felt a renewed surge of guilty panic.

Thankfully, Kurogane was an expert at hiding his feelings, because panic was the last thing these kids needed to see from him. Instead, he calmly ordered them to remain outside and then proceeded to all but fly into the flames, terrified of what he would find.

Once inside, he almost wished that his worst nightmare _had_ become reality. Of all the awful scenarios he had envisioned, never had he imagined that the mage wouldn't eve be present, his guard on the ground, bleeding, apparently dead. He spun, calling out to a man who had apparently fallen from the place of the planet. "Mage. Mage! Fai!"

"Not here...," with little more than a whisper, the guard revealed that he was not, in fact, dead.

Kurogane whirled on the man in a fury, "What do you mean, _not here_?"

"I mean," The man paused to draw a shaky breath, "not here. And unless you plan on cremating us both, we should follow suit."

Kurogane almost left the man, this human who had caused his friend such grief and trouble. But after moment's deliberation, he realized that he needed what this man knew. Grimacing, he bent down and levered the injured man upwards. Throwing the half-conscious guard over his shoulder, he spun on his heel and ran back to where the children waited.

As he was paraded through the streets like some kind of freak, an abomination being led to its death, Fai began to wish that he had simply allowed the guards to call his friends when he had been arrested, but that would have involved dragging them into this mess, and had seemed like a bad idea at the time. _At the time_. A lot had seemed different _at the time_. Right now, Fai felt like being a little selfish. He wanted his friends. Heck, as long as he was dreaming, he wanted off this world altogether. He would even have welcome Mokona right then. He could almost hear the manju's shrill voice demanding that they unhand him that very instant.

"Fai! Fai! Get away from him you..you...MEANIE!" Glory, he really _could_ hear him. Quite well actually. _Too_ well. With a shudder, the realization of the danger that being near him would put them all in washed over his conscious mind once more.

Struggling to raise his head past the wall of dizzying pain obscuring his thoughts, he called out in the general direction from which her shout had come, "Mokona! Find the others... Tell them not to come. Can you hear me? They. Must. Not. Come!"

"Yes little one, you must leave you friend to die at our hands. Go and tell the others to hide like the cowards they are." Fai only registered the man's presence by his icy tone and the flare of pain across the side of his face. He cared less that the man had hit him then that Mokona might disobey his order to protect him. He simply could not be allowed to tell the others to return. But as he opened his mouth to say as much, pain flared again, sending is vision black for a moment.

He heard Mokona's terrified shriek and then the sound of her bouncing away to lead the others straight into a trap.

Stars dancing behind his eyes, he raised his head to glare at the nameless man who was putting his makeshift family in jeopardy. Summoning all of the energy his battered body retained, he lifted his head and snarled, "I don't know who you are, but you will not harm those people."

"Try and stop me mage," the man laughed, striking Fai again, sending the magician to his knees.

He could taste blood, its metallic tang accenting the other tastes in his mouth. The people swirled, forming a circle around them. His vision wavered, the crowd becoming little more than sharply apparent faces blazing cruelly out from a sea of threats. He, the cold man, and the two men who held his arms stood just off center, and as he watched, others came forward constructing his funeral pyre. He was watching these men dig his proverbial grave, and all he could do was stare, hanging limply in his captor's grips.

His body sagged their vice-like hold, finally cracking under the strain of the last day. They had all been rough to him during the trip. His shirt and gloves were torn and speckled with blood, and a large rip in the left knee of his pants left the cut skin below exposed to the elements. His back and face were covered in small lacerations from rocks thrown by the citizens who lined the streets, the gruesome framework of a living picture, people who didn't even know who he was or why he was being punished. A sick concoction of mud and blood dripped off of his as he moved, the red fluid mingling with the remains of muck, tracing the lines and wrinkles of his clothing and skin in a sick parody of a tattoo. He scarcely noticed as the dragged his limp form forward and began looping rope around him, binding him to his soon-to-be tomb.

Kurogane felt that he had been decently patient. He had listened to most of the guard's tale with only a few twitches, but when the man had gotten to the part where he fell unconscious, the ninja felt entirely justified with his furious, "What!"

"You heard me, I don't know where they took him." The man sounded defeated and Kurogane realized that to the guards mind, he had failed. His prisoner was no longer in the now non-existent prison. His sympathy cut short a Mokona soared towards them shrilling, "I do, I do!"

"You do what?" the ninja questioned intently.

"I know where he is, and I know what their going to do."

"And that is?" Kurogane practically felt himself chafing to be off.

"They're going to burn him at the stake-" the words had no more than left the pork bun's mouth before Kurogane was hurtling down the path dragging their small, white guide behind him. The children followed their example, leaving the guard to ponder the eccentricities of ninjas and mages.

Fai began to struggle once more as the binding tightened around his torso and arms. The ropes, far too tight, bit into shredded fabric and torn skin, drawing blood instantly. His struggling only made it worse, but it allowed him to forget, for a moment that he was utterly powerless to stop his impending death.

He froze momentarily as he felt the cold man come up behind him, and snarled with true, black fury as a blindfold tightened, obliterating his line of sight. After a moment, he realized that they had used his own eye patch to blindfold him. Despair washed over his conscious mind, hopelessness so deep, and insurmountable that he felt physical pain at its presence and he leaned back and howled from the depths of his soul, shrieks of desperate rage slowly becoming silent screams as his voice spent itself, continuing its raspy calls despite the riotous laughter of the onlookers below.

Unbeknownst to any of the people congregated below, the magician's screams did not fall entirely on deaf ears. Just beyond the clearing a ninja, two teens, and small white manjuu ran all the faster, terrified for their friend's safety.

Upon reaching their destination, however, the four stopped in their tracks, all breath driven from their lungs at the sight in front of them. So many people! Were mages really so hated, that the people would flock to a death in these incredible numbers?

Kurogane's heart tightened with fury. Did these people have nothing better to do than bask in another's misery? They treated this as though they were attending some travesty of a play?

And there, in the very center of the circle, a fire burned, its long, dancing arms reaching for a life that none of the four on the hill were ready to release. Syaoran reached for the princess, shielding her from the horror and drawing his sword, torn between his friend's life and his love's sanity as Kurogane leapt forward bellowing his rage.

Fai's head snapped around at the familiar sound, his heart freezing in terror's chilling grip. Blind to the world, he fought to free himself with a renewed energy. His ruined throat could barely hack out his desperate warning as he called out to the ninja to leave him and escape. Blood ran freely down his arms now, and his thrashing only made the injuries worse. He could feel the heat, a henna thief robbing the world of oxygen, color, and life.

Kurogane heard the mage's words and fought his way through the throng of panicked citizens all the faster because of them. His approach had evoked a massive emergency mentality and a stamped of humanity stood between Fai and himself. He moved forward desperately now, Fai was running out of time. At long last he fought his way through and had a clear shot to his flame enveloped friend. That is, until a cold, cruel looking man made an egregious error- he stepped between them. Kurogane snarled, falling into a fighting stance. He would like nothing more than to rip this man lib from limb. Judging from Mokona's breathless commentary during the group's run, this man was responsible for Fai's pain.

Yes, the ninja wanted badly to draw this out, but he had no time left. The last grain of sand had fallen.

Fai's thrashing ceased as an unfamiliar weight dropped into his hand. It was a dagger, strapped to the inside of his wrist long ago by their host in this world, also a magic user. He slouched into the ropes, allowing himself to breath, drops of blood, a red so dark it seemed almost black, falling in time to his inhaling, sizzling as the hit the flames. Her words from that day floated back to him. _Mages are forbidden from carrying weaponry, save this. Hide that dagger, it may save you life. And remember, regardless of the circumstance, a mage's life is his and his alone to keep or take._

_**A/N**_: There it be. If you liked it, please tell me. I just may make it into a multichapter fic...but that would involve naming the cold man. Oh, well, it may just be worth it. I hate writing for Kurogane! Not sure why, but he gives me a terrible time... Sigh, well, I must persever. Next one will be funny, to make up for drowning you in angst. Peace, love, and KitKat bars.

Three

_**For da' Reviewers**_

_**Shunatsu-**_ Thanks for the review. (Hurls mud in return) hope you like this one, it is a little darker!

Please R&R!

Winterland

_I'll kill them. I'll kill them all if he doesn't wake up._


	3. Introspective

A/N: In Danger 2 will be re-posted after I have edited it. The quality was poor, and I apologize, it will be fixed, and the plot will be enhanced. Until then, have another.

_**Wings**_

The temple had seemed a safe enough risk. Until the Sphinx, that is. Until the demons outside looked tame and inviting. Until the one challenge no on prepares for looked them in the eye.

_What are you?_

Unsaid, the question lingering on the air wrapped around the tired limbs of any traveler foolish enough to seek asylum withing the ornate walls. The five it trapped now fought, psyches writhing against its soft, smothering grasp until its master and lady padded forward.

Regal with her ornate, golden visage, the Sphinx loomed over her intrepid guests, then leaned forward. "Tell me. What do you know of my kind?"

Moments passed as voices muted by her spells battled the thick atmosphere. At last, Fai gasped out, "You riddle for entertainment."

"Correct. Can you answer my question? More importantly, dare you approach?"

Sayoran approached first, struggling, first upright, then on his knees, determined to defeat this enemy and her cruel sense of humor. Kneeling before the stone paws, he spoke towards the floor, "Ask lady, and I will answer to the fullest extent."

Mica lips curved upwards, glittering in the torchlight. "Yes, I expect you will," The Sphinx's voice rolled like honey and cream, rich, captivating, and terrifying, "So I ask the question you have know since the moment you entered my domain: What are you?"

Sayoran paused before answering, hesitating to define his life and its purpose, then raised his head and declared, "I, my lady, am a crusader."

"Why?"

"Because I fight for a cause that appears hopeless out of nothing more and nothing less than undying loyalty, to my country and to my princess."

"You words ring true, pass, or wait to see your friends answers."

Rising swiftly, no longer burdened by the heavy silence, Sayoran stepped to the side and waited. The Sphinx watched him for a moment, smiling while he chose as she knew he would.

"Next," the Sphinx's voice rang clear, like hard metals struck together, as she turned back to the four before her.

"My turn." Sakura raised her head, mouth set into a grim line. She made almost the entire walk on her hands and knees, but kept her head raised, chin up.

"Come and tell me: What are you?"

"I...am a thread." Sakura spoke softly, yet the certainty in her voice resounded. She had obviously thought her decision through

"What?"

"I am the thread that holds these people together. For my sake the traveled, and they remained together for me. I am a thread, a fragile bridge between past and present."

"This I can accept. Go. Stand with your crusader. Next."

"Mokona's turn!"

"Very well little one. What are you?" The budding smile in the Sphinx's voice was scarcely concealed.

"Mokona is a hero. I rescue the others when they cannot escape on their own."

The Sphinx blinked and opened her mouth, only to close it once more. When she finally spoke, her voice retained its surprised texture, "A hero you are indeed. Pass on. Next."

"Try me." Kurogane stood and stalked forward, shaking from the strain of remaining upright, but unwilling to kneel before this creature.

The Sphinx paused and for the first time appeared impressed. "Very well: What are you?"

"I am a demon. So long did I hunt them and so many did I kill along the path, guilty or otherwise, that I became the very thing I detested. I cannot feel true regret for protecting my princess, but all the good in the world will never wash my hands free of the blood tainting them." Kurogane, too, looked her in the eye as he spoke and when he finished, she turned her cold, stone features from him.

"Your answer stings in its candid tones, but the truth is plain. Walk on, and redeem yourself."

Fai rose slowly, standing alone now. He walked forward with languid strides, upright but unhurried. When he reached the Sphinx he raised his eyes to hers and commanded, 'Ask."

"What are you?"

"I am an angel, fallen from grace."

"Why fallen?"

"What is an angel, without their wings?"

"Well, where are you wings?"

"I tore them off with my own two hands the day I fell from heaven's gates." Her expression morphed from curious to thunderstruck, and he turned his head downwards and reflected upon the truth in the words. That day at Yukko's, that day he flung himself so far from home, he had given her his wings. Without them, he was no more useful than an angel without pinions.

An eternity later, she smoothed her expression and said, "You know who you are, and you know what you wish for. Come take the feather you sought and begone."

Take the feather they did, straight from her gilded headdress; and as Mokona happily played "hero," they sat in silence, wondering at their true natures, and the natures of one another. In silence, the crusader defended the fine thread bridge, as the demon with his bloody hands stood beside the angel flying with broken, bloodied wings.

A/N: Yes, it is another introspective piece of crap, but the plot bunny bit me, hard. It could probably be better done, but I actually kind of liked it. Please R&R.

P.S: Sorry for the lack of _**For da' Reviewers,**_ but that chapter is being redone.


	4. Still In Danger

A/N: This is the third (and I hope last) time I have revised this chapter. I keep coming back to this series and re-reading it and it's making my eyes bleed. So here is my renovation of a 2 year old piece of writing. It is part of a fic I have not yet posted and I hope you enjoy. I just had this compulsory need to bring this piece up to speed with my current writing ability.

Still In Danger

_Fai's thrashing ceased as an unfamiliar weight dropped into his hand. It was a dagger, strapped to the inside of his wrist long ago by their host in this world, also a magic user. He slouched into the ropes, allowing himself to breathe, drops of blood, a red so dark it seemed almost black, falling in time to his inhaling, sizzling as they hit the flames. Her words from that day floated back to him. __**Mages are forbidden from carrying weaponry, save this. Hide that dagger, it may save you life. And remember, regardless of the circumstance, a mage's life is his and his alone to keep or take.**_

Kurogane balanced easily, weight shifted forward onto his toes. Throngs of terrified people surged about, a sea of bodies surrounding and engulfing the clearing. With the ease of a practiced warrior, Kurogane wove his way forward, forging a bloodless path towards his victim.

The man fled once he saw him approaching, slamming into bodies left and right, scattering people out of his path. Kurogane accelerated then, not caring who he injured along his path, so long as they didn't die. Three swift stroke of the sword, at once terrible and magnificent, brought him within striking distance. A fourth swing arched upwards; its fall promising death to the recipient.

Kurogane tensed as the man on the ground moved suddenly, reaching for a dagger hidden within his cloak. He sent the sword hurtling downwards, but a sharp pain in his wrist, accompanied by a brief spurt of blood and the grating crack of broken bones grinding together, cost the stroke its terrible momentum, sending the weapon skittering to the side, out of reach. Kurogane pivoted, driving his body away from his now armed opponent.

"Not so tough now, eh?" the man's taunt lost its effect among the strained, panting words, but his stride was swift as he feigned forward and dropped to the side, aiming his weapon in a strike designed to slip between ribs. Kurogane swung to the side again, but he could already see that the pivot left him within his assailants reach. He cast one last glance towards his sword, lying several arms lengths away, and then leapt sideways, left hand clasping the blade, bringing it into a guard position and sinking towards a defensive stance.

The cold man stepped forward, looked left and right, almost furtively, then allowed the blade to elongate into a full sword with merely a flick of his wrist. Smiling at Kurogane's obvious, shocked fury, he said, "You know, I have never hated anyone quite like I hate myself. Except perhaps, that bitch who called herself my mother; she who whelped me infected with the curse of magic."

"You-you," Kurogane struggled, unable to comprehend a term horrible enough to describe his opinion of this man. "You want to kill them because you _**are**_ one?"

"Precisely. I know the terrible burden of magic, on the user and on the world they live in. I cannot allow one so cursed to survive." With that he leapt forward, raising his sword and bellowing, "Take the strangers! Kill them all!"

"Run!" Kurogane roared towards the hill where the kids stood still, before turning his own blade against his assailant. The men struggled for a moment before the cold man pressed his advantage, twisting Kurogane's left hand to the side and driving forward.

As Kurogane dragged his blade back towards the man, his opponent uttered a strange, convulsing hiss before falling to his knees, then the ground as his body gave way, curled in a pool of ever expanding blood.

Kurogane gaped at his tormentor, lying pitifully on his side, whimpers fading into silence as his eyes rolled upward to stare, blank and empty at the sky. His gaze travelled down the man's body to the dark hilt embedded in his side, thrown hard enough to puncture deep. He turned his gaze to the pyre, disbelief etched across his features.

"Enough was enough." The hoarse, whispered reply answered his unspoken question.

Fai staggered to the edge of the circle surrounding the stake and pulled the dagger from its embedded position in his assailant's side, hand skimming through the other man's robe, and then collapsed into a sitting position, staring at the dagger in his bloodied hands. His blue eyes had a faded, worn look to them, and Kurogane approached, sword in hand, uncertain as to how to defend his friend against this invisible tormentor. He cried out softly as the mage swayed and then tipped forward, eyes sliding shut. He lunged across the distance between them, propping Fai up even as his head lolled from side to side.

A voice behind them spoke, the words cool and calming, "Help me lift him. Swiftly now, bring the mage, the children are safe."

Kurogane spun to find their host from this world, Samantha Umai, a mage in her own right. She sprang forward to drag Fai to his feet, spurring Kurogane into motion. Lifting the smaller man as he had done so many times before, he followed that witch to her home, where the children waited in the sitting room. She instructed Kurogane to set Fai down, and then bent to the task of attending his numerous burns and lacerations.

"I am truly sorry that my neighbors were so unable to live you in peace. You will not be able to rest here. Without Arras to guide them, the mob will likely dissipate, but if anyone searches still, they will look here first," as she spoke Samantha indicated various supplies that Sakura then packed into a small leather satchel, "Everything you need to care for him is in that bag. The path behind the house will take you deep into the forest, where you can leave in peace."

Kurogane simply nodded, signaled to the kids that the time had come to leave, and picked Fai up once more. For the first time that evening, the blond man stirred, then woke. Looking around drunkenly, he smiled and said, "Kuro-wan, you f-forgot something." He held up one shaking hand, clutching Sakura's feather, "How could we leave without this? H-he was carrying it, the whole time. I just slipped it out of his robes."

Sakura snatched up her feather before pushing the mage back into a reclining position and scolding him for moving. They all jumped in surprise and alarm as the door rattled under the pressure of the sea of people behind it.

"Go." Samantha ordered, "Leave them to me, but be quick and quiet."

Kurogane nodded curtly and allowed the children to drape Fai's coat over the mage's still form before leading the group out the back of the house and into the dark night outside.

Torchlight threw ghastly shadow along the walls as what remained of the mob hunted the strangers they had failed to kill. Shouts mingled with the sharp cracks of colliding metal echoing throughout the city's streets.

Samantha had been right, the mob grew progressively smaller, but it remained terrifying, regardless.

Hugging his coat more closely around his burned, bloody clothing, Fai hoped with all of his soul that he never again met with such malice as what permeated this world..

He hissed softly as the ninja's stride bounced him to and fro, sending fresh waves of pain through old injuries. When Kurogane hesitated, he waved the taller man on, swallowing a grimace of pain. He felt sore muscles relax with relief as Mokona's wings spread above them and silence filled the air.

Wherever they were going, it could feel no further from home then this nightmare.

A/N: I hope you liked it. I apologize for the lack of my usual review remarks, but it is late here, and I am tiered. Have a lovely night.

Winterland

_I'll kill them. I'll kill them all if he doesn't wake up._


	5. Protected

1A/N: Ooooh, POV. From me? No, it cannot be. But it is. I tired of writing from Fai's perspective, or in a 3rd person POV, so here's a drabble from Kurogane about Fai in Celes. It's short and relatively to the point, but it's and update. Oh joy!

Protected:

How dare he? How could he think for a moment, for one god-forsaken moment that the truth would scare us away- or scare me away? I know it's futile now, but I can't help but wonder if he had told us sooner, and told us everything, if this could have been avoided. If maybe, just maybe, we could have not been standing here, waiting for death to come crashing down upon us as his world collapses both literally and figuratively.

I hate him for lying to me and for hiding from me and most of all for making me want to protect him even when I cannot figure out how to save him from himself.

The mage is self destructing and I am helpless to do anything but watch the blood spill out of his mouth and observe the unrestrained terror erupting within his eyes, numbed by the realization that he cannot save us, that his magic has finally failed him once and for all.

Later, I questioned everything, my motives, my thoughts, my future, but in the instant itself, I thought only of him and of this strange, compulsive, inexplicable, frustrating compulsion I have to save him.

All in all, I think the trade was a fair one. Two objects of equal worth and power exchanged for one another.

Because whatever the mage may believe about the worth of his life, I know for a fact that it is one of the two most precious items I have ever held in my hands, and in the end, it was the one I chose to keep.

A/N: Woohooo! Let's hear it for the shortest update the world has ever seen. Even with the author's notes, it didn't mae a page. Longer updates to come. I apologize to all who feared that I had perished. Alas, I am merely lazy....

Reveiws = Love

Thankies


	6. Apology Drabbles 110

**01. Introduction **

"Ah, Kuro-chii, I see you've met my brother," Yuui said, a grin spreading slowly across his face as his lover's brain caught up to the situation at hand.

"What?" the darker man questioned, his gaze swiveling between the blonde man he'd mistaken for his partner, sandwiched against his side and Yuui himself, incoherent with laughter by the door.

"I'm Fai," the stranger said, sticking out a hand to be shaken. "Sorry about all this, but Yuui said you had it coming."

Kurogane pushed aside his confusion for the moment, in favor of running his husband down and throttling the living daylights out of him while Fai looked on, bemused in the extreme.

**02. Love **

Watching Sakura and Sayora, curled around one another and sound asleep on the ground, and the wizard mere feet away, Mokona perched on his head, Kurogane realized that in his relentless attempts to get home, he had wrapped himself so tightly in this group that he could no longer see where he ended and the began.

He realized that the emotion he had labeled as devotion for all these years might actually be called lover. That, more than anything, scared him senseless.

**03. Light **

Fai privately marveled at the ninja's eyes, glittering in the dark mere inches away, like embers at the center of a roaring fire. He peered blearily up at Kurogane, his own tired eye fighting to focus in on the ninja's expression, which vacillated between bloodlust and anxiety, focused alternately on Sayoran's rising conflict with what appeared to be himself and the man currently shuddering from shock and bloodlust in his arms.

Fai arched in agony as another bolt of white-hot pain ripped through his skull, a vague, animalistic whimper gurgling out of his throat. His lone good eye slid closed for a moment and he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder, not quite a shake that would have left him in tortured spasms, but a call back to reality.

His last coherent thought as he slipped into the maelstrom of black and white lightening reverberating inside of his head was that Kurogane's eyes were truly astonishing when they caught the light, like ruby lamps, illuminating the dark underground.

**04. Dark **

Fai awoke from the dark fog of unconsciousness to a cacophony of pain and the rough threads of an army-issue blanket, those same bright eyes pinning him down, attached to strong hands holding him to the bed, holding down the fire roaring through his veins. He could feel the boiling energy singing through his body, turning the throbbing discomfort in his eye into a fever pitch, driving him to thrash and writhe beneath the other's weight. He howled and bucked to no avail until his protests faded to whimpers and the light in those red eyes finally went out, replaced with a heady tiredness. His body went slack, his mind sliding back into the comforting darkness, away from the eyes that could offer him no comfort.

**05. Seeking Solace **

Fai turned away from the cold air leaking under the blanket and buried his face in the warm skin of Kurogane's shoulder, humming in contentment.

"Cold, mage?" his lover inquired, tossing a perfunctory arm over the smaller man's shoulders.

Fai shook his head no, a lazy smile on his face. "No, just comfortable."

**06. Break Away **

"Get back here you thrice damned, son of a-"

"Now, now Kuro-rin, don't get hasty."

"Hasty my ass. You were way back at the end of the pack. How in the hell did you pass me?"

"One word love. Blue Shell."

"That's two words."

"Complaining, complaining."

**07. Heaven **

"_Oooh baby do you know what it's worth? Oooh heaven is a place on earth."_ Fai chirped, swinging his hips back and forth as he dusted the mantle in their living room.

"Please never do that again," Kurogane implored, standing wide-eyed in the doorway.

"Why on earth would I do something like that?" the magician asked, swinging over to loop and arm over the other man's shoulders.

"Because I might do something ridiculous like spirit you off to the bedroom for some 'quality time' with daddy."

"Hmmm," Fai responded, leaning sideways until their hips brushed together. "You're expression just might be worth it. _They say in heaven, love comes first. We'll make heaven a place on earth_."

**08. Innocence **

"What was that!" Kurogane exploded, hurdling over bodies to reach the bloodied magician and the girl crumpled at his feet, unconscious, but otherwise unharmed.

"What was what, Kurogane?" Fai asked, too weary to even formulate a nickname.

"That ungodly explosion just now. Presumably the same thing that killed all these people!"

"Ah," Fai said, "that would have been me."

"I figured that," Kurogane snapped. "Why?"

"Because they wanted to take something from the princess that I couldn't allow."

"And what," Kurogane ground out, "would that be?"

"Her innocence," the mage replied, his eyes focused far off in the ravaged distance.

**09. Drive **

"Who taught you how to drive you crazy bastard?"

"Your grandmother apparently Kuro-pipi. Really, speed limits are for sissies."

"Sissies determined to live for their next birthdays!"

"This is Mario Kart, darling. The craziest bastard gets the trophy."

"That a challenge, blondie?"

"In your dreams, love."

**10. Breathe Again **

"Did you never play games in the ice on glass as a child?" Fai asked, genuinely befuddled.

"Mage, we rarely had snow in Nihon, much less ice. When would I have done this, exactly?"

"Right now," his lover declared, taking Kurogane's large, tan hand in his small, fair one and tracing lazy lines on the frosted window pane, drawing hearts and lazy spirals until the frost had melted almost entirely away.

Kurogane chuckled deep in his throat and made to remove his hand, but Fai stopped him, tightening his grip.

"Don't be done so early," he chided. "It's still cold outside."

"But the frost is gone," Kurogane protested.

Fai pulled him closer, until their foreheads touched the glass and their cheeks rested side by side. "We can make our own," he explained, breath fogging the glass with each word. "Just breathe."

* * *

A/N: I am so, so sorry. I haven't updated in forever and I feel abysmal. But here are some drabbles in recompense, and that full fic I promised for In Danger I and II oh so long ago, for those of you who remember (and by some miracle still read this, two years later) I finally started it and am now about 1/3 of the way done. If you're interested in it still, let me know. Otherwise, it'll be up when it's up.

Thank you for your eternal patience with this one,

TBR


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